


Prolegomena to Nori

by Lacertae, Veraverorum (your_Mother)



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Childhood, Gen, Poverty, Prostitution, mention of character's death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-25
Updated: 2016-02-25
Packaged: 2018-05-23 02:24:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6101665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lacertae/pseuds/Lacertae, https://archiveofourown.org/users/your_Mother/pseuds/Veraverorum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Little Nori wondered what honour tasted like, if it could fill up a tummy. Would it keep them warm during winter nights?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prolegomena to Nori

**Author's Note:**

> Prolegomena (noun, plural) – (from the Ancient Greek word προλέγειν [proléghein]) a preliminary discussion; introductory essay, as prefatory matter in a book; a prologue.

Mother told them stories. Stories of great dwarrows and their even greater deeds. Stories of strength, and honour, and courage.

 

She used to sing them while working at her old, mended loom, her fingers bent with arthritis, and little Dori and Nori laid at her sides, listening enraptured to her voice following the rhythm of her instrument, and forgot how the pangs of hunger pricked in their bellies.

 

She also tried to teach them their people's ways -let it not be said that her dwarflings knew nothing about resilience and other important values.

 

They were beautiful words but they filled nobody's belly.

 

If they were still in Erebor. If Erebor were still thriving... they wouldn't have to suffer the hunger or the cold or the poverty. Dwarrows were not shy of work, they were a laborious species, but now they had reached the point where too much work was put in to get so little of what was necessary to live with dignity.

 

Their mother was familiar with the watery, big eyes her children made whenever the small family was about the market and spotted a human stand covered in food, but the small amount of money she made from her hard work at the loom was barely enough to get them a piece of bread a day.

 

Both dwarflings asked her often why they could have none of the sweet delicacies they saw human children buy, and little Nori was the most vocal about it, but their mother reprimanded them each time. Dwarrows had too much honour!

 

Too much honour for what? was the doubt that constantly crossed Nori's mind. Little Nori wondered what honour tasted like, if it could fill up a tummy. Would it keep them warm during winter nights?

 

Sadly he could only come up with negative answers to his many doubts, yet the desire for more food remained strong.

 

Too much honour was also the answer that mother gave to the dwarrows who occasionally knocked on their run down door.

 

Little Nori was too young at the time to understand what those dwarrows wanted from their mother, but later - so much later, in his adulthood - he would remember a brief period of time when they could eat enough to not go to sleep tired and wake up even more so than the previous day. Nori even got to own a pair of his own shoes, not passed down from Dori.

 

When little Nori got told he would no longer be the little one of the family, his smile got so big that even his mother was infected by it. He was still too young to notice the worry that mother and Dori tried to hide under their joyous words, though.

 

That short period of good luck seemed to end all too soon. The strangers coming to their house slowly stopped showing up as his mother's belly grew big, and that was the end of their good meals. Nori was back to watching his mother work all day for far too little, and it became harder to fall asleep at night, his little tummy growling and empty.

 

Staying home with nothing to do became too much, and little Nori started going out on his own, looking for something to do. He was too little to help much even if he wanted to, and taking long walks was the only thing he thought to do, since he did not have any friends beside Dori to spend time with. But Dori was busy helping mother working at her heavy loom.

 

The market area was where he went the most, to observe the humans selling their goods, and he could stare at the food on display for hours, envious of the people who could buy it when he couldn't. There was a human seller in a corner of the market place, and he always paced in front of his stand, calling for customers to come closer to see his fresh produce, enticing them to buy his potatoes, or his apples. Nori liked to stand nearby, his back against a wall, observing people come and go with bags full of food.

 

It happened that one day Nori was particularly hungry. His tummy hurt because of how little he always ate, but today it was worse, and he wondered if the people walking by could hear it grumbling.

 

The seller was pacing around again, back and forth in front of his stand, arms open wide, and Nori happened to look at the stand. The crate with the apples was full, and they were all red and smelled delicious from where he was standing. Without realising it, he stepped closer to the stand to look at the apples. The man had his back turned to him, and was not looking. His stomach grumbled again, and Nori felt a shiver of anticipation coil inside his chest.

 

It happened so fast -one moment he was standing near the crate, the next he was running away as fast as his little legs could carry him, one of those shining, red apples clutched in his small hands, his heart pounding like crazy.

 

He slid in a narrow alley, arms trembling, and he kept looking around, afraid someone had seen him. Nobody came.

 

His first bite of the apple was tentative and small, barely a dent in the fruit, but the taste... it was juicy, and sweet, and it was the best thing Nori had ever tasted. Ravenous, he bit in the apple again and again, juices dribbling down his chin, filling his mouth with bites too big for him, swallowing down and almost choking on it.

 

When he was done, only the seeds and the core left in his hand, Nori realised he was crying -his hunger gone for the moment, his fingers sticky with the proof of his theft.

 

He wiped his tears, and buried the apple seeds in the dirt of the street before running home. That night, for the first time in a long while, he was able to fall asleep easily, despite the fear that someone would come for him because of the stolen apple.

 

The next day, Nori found himself at the stand again. The man was still busy selling his produce, and he paid no attention to Nori as he shuffled closer to the apple crate. He had told himself he would not do it again, that it had been a one-time thing, but the fruits smelled just as delicious as before, and he could not resist.

 

It was easy to dart forwards, his heart racing and his skin prickling, and grab another apple from the crate before dashing away, his treasure clutched against his chest.

 

He hesitated, hidden behind a spices stand, the delicious smell of apple filling his senses, before running home with it instead of eating it. The image of his brother Dori waiting for him at home, still as hungry as Nori had been the previous day, was too strong for him. Dori deserved to eat something this good, too.

 

Dori was not stupid. He stared at the apple with big eyes before looking at his little brother, mouth opening to ask -Nori did not let him, because if Dori had asked, he would have told him everything. Instead, he pushed the apple into his hands, jutting out his chin as Dori's stomach grumbled loudly, and waited.

 

For a few long seconds, Dori almost refused the treat, but then his hunger won over his doubts, and soon enough the apple was gone, and despite how hungry Nori still was, the sated look on his brother's face made him feel better about giving the apple to him.

 

The next day, Nori was back in the market. This time he avoided the stand with the man, afraid that he would notice if he kept stealing apples from him, and moved to another area of the market. The fruit stands were many, and the apples all looked the same to him -delicious and shiny.

 

His anticipation made him careless, though, and he did not look hard enough before he got too close to the crate. Just as he was about to grab a fruit, a hand descended on him, taking a hold of his wrist in a steely hold he could not shake off, and then he was tugged up, manhandled by a tall, burly man with a frown.

 

Nori did not remember much of what the man had said then -he was too scared, his heart pounding too loudly in his ears, the fear coiling inside his stomach making it impossible for him to do anything but hang in the man's grip, limp and defeated as the man screamed at him and shook his arm so much it hurt.

 

The guards' hut was big, and made of stone and bricks, and there were sturdy bars at the windows. Nori was surrounded with disapproving faces and scary frowns, and all the guards were strangers, tall and frightening to his dwarfling eyes.

 

Alone, petrified with fear and guilt, Nori was forced to stay with them all day. It was the longest day of his life, surrounded by unfamiliar, unfriendly faces, and when his mother came to get him, alerted of his disappearance by a worried, frantic Dori, he threw himself in her arms, shaky and in tears, and clung to her pants all the way home.

 

What followed was painful -Nori's mother had never yelled in her life, as she always said that a dwarrowdam needed to impress others with her standing, not her voice, so her scolding was done in a quiet, even tone, which made it worse for Nori. He could hear her disappointment clearly, and her sadness, and it devastated him.

 

There was no honour in those who stole, no matter the reason, and his mother made it clear then that he had shamed himself, his family and her name with that act.

 

For a week after that, Nori kept away from the market, his mother's words ringing in his ears. Dori watched him go with a haunted, knowing look in his eyes, believing his mother had stopped him once and for all.

 

Sadly, honour did not put food on the table, no matter how much his mother worked.

 

They were still underfed, unhappy and poor, and she still worked herself too hard, especially in her condition. Her belly was growing bigger with each day, and within it was Nori's future sibling. Another brother who would end up the same way as Dori and himself. Poor. Unhappy. Unable to eat as much as he needed.

 

The thought that there could be a sister in there was even worse -Nori could not deal with the thought of leaving a younger sister to live like this, like his mother.

 

It was easy, after that. Making sure to keep his face covered, to make himself small, unnoticed, near the stands. Easier still to keep an eye on the guards, on the vendors. Easy to grab whatever thing was closest and hide it inside his clothes, and then walk away slowly instead of running, so nobody would think to suspect him.

 

And if his mother did not want him to shame their family, and her name, it was easier to lie to her with a straight face, to look at Dori and reassure him with a smile that he had not stolen anything. That what he got was given to him freely for whatever little job he got at the market, or in a farm.

 

With time, Nori became really good at lying, especially to himself, and even better at stealing.

 

It became easier than breathing. Twirling things in one hand, attracting the guards’ attention on something else before making his move. Keeping a weapon on him at all times, just in case he needed to protect himself. And more than one hidden on himself... after all, he needed the security to make it home safely.

 

Honour still had no taste for him, because he had given up on it when he was too young to truly understand what it meant.

 

He did understand what the lack of honour tasted like, though, and it was guilt.

 

But it was also the sound of little Ori burping to his full belly's delight, or the nice aroma of those dirty waters that Dori became passionate about brewing. Lack of honour was soft like the good quality wools that their mother could finally cover her rheumatic body with. And it was fancy like a new shining knife that Nori could hide on himself.

 

Lack of honour was watching his family survive, and keeping them safe.

 

His mother voice, telling him how thieves had no honour, became quieter with time.

 

When his little brother was born, the voice turned into a whisper. When his mother died, the voice died with her. The echoes of her words remained with him though, with every disapproving look Dori gave him, with every glare he received whenever he was caught.

 

Nori knew he could live with that.

 

He could live with the guilt, too.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 4th HobbitCon book, character Nori and guilt as the theme.
> 
> Many heartfelt thanks to Lacertae who stepped up from being my usual beta to help me finish this story when RL was being too overwhelming. Our styles are on the opposite sides of the writing spectrum but it came out a precious work :*


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